The Odds
by Canadian Crow
Summary: In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?
1. Prologue

Title: The Odds Pro/?  
  
Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?  
  
Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.  
  
Pairings: None per say.  
  
A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.  
  
Okay, here's the challenge:  
  
RULES for the Xander-gets-a-power challenge:  
  
1) The power shouldn't make Xander super-guy.  
  
a) The power can't make Xander super-Slayer-guy (ala Buffy).  
  
b) The power can't make Xander super-magic-guy (ala Willow).  
  
c) The power can't make Xander portal-guy (ala Dawn).  
  
d) The power can't make Xander wish-guy (ala Anya).  
  
2) The power should be totally unique in the history of the world.  
  
3) The power shouldn't have anything to do with actual slaying.  
  
4) The power should attract demons that wish to exploit it.  
  
5) To go with #4, the Scoobies should have to protect Xander.  
  
6) If at all possible, a humorous power is a plus.  
  
That about covers it.  
  
==============================  
  
It had all started with one of those Lottery tickets you get at 7-11.  
  
He had been twelve years old, waiting at the front counter while his father flipped through the porno magazines. As he waited, he soon found himself eavesdropping on the conversations around him. Most of it went right over the young boy's head, and was thusly ignored, but one exchange got through.  
  
"Hal, why do you waste your money on those things? You're never gonna win."  
  
"Alright, Joe. I'll remember you said that when I'm a millionaire."  
  
"Like that'd ever happen. Do you have any idea what the odds of getting all six numbers is?"  
  
Even as the words left the man's mouth, the young boy's mind seemed to light up. Before he could stop himself, he spoke up.  
  
"One in thirteen million, nine hundred and eighty-three thousand, eight hundred and sixteen."  
  
The two men stared at him blankly for a long moment, and he began to feel immensely uncomfortable. Didn't everyone know that answer?  
  
Suddenly, they began to laugh.  
  
"Cute kid." The first one, Joe, remarked.  
  
"Yeah." Hal replied, nudging his friend in the side "Hey, check this out."  
  
He leaned over to the youngster, still laughing. "Okay, smart-guy. How 'bout the seven number draw?"  
  
The boy furrowed his brow for a moment, and then smiled. "One in sixty-two million, eight hundred and ninety-one thousand, four hundred and ninety- nine."  
  
They stopped laughing.  
  
"Damn." Joe muttered. "That's incredible."  
  
"Too right." Hal agreed. "Must be one of those child prodigies, or something."  
  
They were about to ask another question, when a gruff voice interrupted them.  
  
"Move it, ya punk. If I don't get to the liquor store before it closes, your Mom will tear a strip off me tonight."  
  
"Coming, Dad." The boy replied, before turning back to the two men. "Bye."  
  
"Dammit, Xander! When I say move it, I mean move."  
  
With that, twelve-year-old Xander Harris ran out of the convenience store, hoping to avoid any more of his father's wrath.  
  
==============================  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Seeing

Title: The Odds 1/?  
  
Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?  
  
Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.  
  
Pairings: None per say.  
  
A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.  
  
Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up.  
  
This chapter picks up a little while after 'Chosen'.  
  
[ and ] indicate thoughts.  
  
That about covers it.  
  
==============================  
  
"So, Buffy. What are we gonna do now?"  
  
The words had seemed so innocent at the time. None of them really understood the task that lay before them.  
  
It had been three days since the battle in the Hellmouth, and the ensuing collapse of Sunnydale. Three days since the world as they knew it had changed. Across the world, slayers were awakening. But the real work had only just begun.  
  
Or at least that's what Giles kept saying.  
  
Five hours after the town of Sunnydale literally sank into the ground, a busload of tired and injured slayers had pulled up to the Cedars Sinai Medical hospital in downtown Los Angeles, and unloaded into the emergency room.  
  
Twelve hours after, everyone was patched up, and slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.  
  
Twenty-four hours after the battle, everyone's favourite ensouled vampire, or at least, the one living in LA, came onto the scene. Apparently, he now owned a law firm, and was ready to help however he could.  
  
Thirty hours later, the hilarity of a vampire running a law firm finally wore off.  
  
Forty-eight hours in, the calls were made, and most of the potentials, now slayers, scattered to the four winds. They went back to their families, or in some cases, watchers. Some even went to find, and train, the new slayers of the world.  
  
At last, here they sat, seventy-two hours into the new world, playing cards in Xander's hotel room. Xander himself wasn't actually playing, content to sit off to one side and watch TV. In fact, he had just cracked open his second can of pop of the evening when something strange happened.  
  
He had been half-watching Dawn clumsily deal the cards when seemingly random numbers started flashing through his head.  
  
[Three of clubs] he thought abruptly, just as Dawn dealt another card.  
  
[Nine of diamonds, two of hearts, eight of diamonds, six of spades.] His mind continued as the cards hit the table.  
  
As the players picked up their newly dealt hands, and continued playing, he continued. [Buffy has three of a kind, 1:47. Faith has nothing, 1:1. Dawn has one pair, 1:2. Giles has a full house, 1:694. Andrew has a straight flush, 1:72,193. Lucky him.]  
  
He chuckled quietly to himself, and was about to turn back to the TV, when the cards were laid down.  
  
Exactly as he'd predicted them.  
  
[Whoa]  
  
"Dammit, Andrew! Stop winning!" Faith cried indignantly.  
  
"Yeah. You're lucky we're not playing for money here." Dawn added.  
  
"Sorry." The young man replied, sounding completely unrepentant.  
  
[Now that hasn't happened in a long time.] Xander thought. [Not since that day...]  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Boy!" Anthony Harris cried out. "Where are you, ya worthless punk?"  
  
"Here, Dad." Fourteen-year-old Xander Harris replied, coming into the kitchen.  
  
"You little bastard! Do you know what you did?" His father bellowed.  
  
Xander shrank back in fear. His father was obviously drunk. He was damned no matter what answer he gave, so he decided he might as well go with the truth. "No."  
  
"Don't lie to me, boy! You left the stove running! I'm not made of money, you know!"  
  
"But Dad, I didn't..."  
  
"Don't you talk back to me! What it the flame had gone out, huh? We all would've died!"  
  
"Dad, I don't think..."  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If we died?"  
  
"What? No! I..."  
  
"We'd have died in the gas, and get everything!"  
  
"One in six thousand, four hundred and fifty-three..." Xander muttered.  
  
Anthony Harris stopped in mid rant. He eyed Xander angrily. "What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing, Dad..."  
  
"I told you not to lie to me! Now what did you say?!?"  
  
"I only meant, well, the odds of dying from a poisonous gas are...er...One in six thousand, four hundred and fifty-three. I guess."  
  
"Oh, so now you're smarter than me, is that it?"  
  
"Wha..." Xander was cut off by a sharp blow, to the back of the head. Holding back his tears, he looked up to face his father. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Damn right you are! I work my fingers to the bone for you and that whore of a mother you have, and this is the respect I get?"  
  
He grabbed Xander violently by the neck, and practically threw him across the room. The young man barely even cried out as he struck the far wall.  
  
"I'm gonna teach you a lesson in respect, you little shit!" The older man growled as he stalked over to where his son lay. As the boy attempted to climb to his feet, his father grabbed him again, and hurled him across the room once more.  
  
The last image he could remember was the refrigerator door rushing at him.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
When Xander had woken up, two days later, it had been in Sunnydale General Hospital. His head was partially covered by a large white bandage, and for the first time in two years, the numbers in his head were gone.  
  
His father had told the doctors that he'd fallen down the stairs, and for whatever reason, they'd believed him. He'd been released a day later, and told to get plenty of rest.  
  
As the weeks and months passed, he'd slowly forgotten the numbers in his head. From that day on, though, he had a near endless amount of trouble with math.  
  
Then, when Buffy had come on to the scene, and a whole new world was opened to him, the memories were put completely out of his mind.  
  
For the next seven years, he fought beside the Slayer and his friends, until the night in the vineyard, Caleb's attack, and the day he once again woke up in the hospital, his head surrounded by white bandages.  
  
Now, watching his friends play cards, he somehow knew every card that was going to be drawn, was calculating the statistics and odds in his head faster than he could think, and predicting each hand.  
  
He had yet to be wrong.  
  
[This is so cool.]  
  
"Xander, what are you staring at?" Giles suddenly asked.  
  
"Huh? Oh, just watching you guys play."  
  
"That's all well and good, but must you keep muttering?"  
  
"Muttering?"  
  
"Yes. You keep muttering something under you breath. It's quite distracting."  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
"It's OK." Dawn piped up. "The game was getting boring, anyway."  
  
"Good call." Faith agreed, throwing her cards down, and yawning loudly. "I think I'm gonna go catch some more sleep."  
  
"Me, too." Andrew added, as the two of them left for their separate rooms.  
  
A short silence followed their departure, broken only by the canned laughter of whatever sitcom was on the TV.  
  
"So, what now?" Dawn asked suddenly.  
  
"What do you mean?" Giles responded.  
  
"Well, we've been in LA for three days now. All the injured are either fixed up, or in for a long recovery. There's not much we can do here, so I ask, what now?"  
  
As they all considered suggestions, Xander was suddenly compelled to speak. "I vote road trip."  
  
"Now there's an idea I like!" Dawn answered.  
  
"Now wait a minute." Buffy interrupted. "We can't just pick up and leave!"  
  
"Why not?" Xander shot back. "Like Dawn said, it's not like we have any reason to be here right now."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Ah-ah-ah. Think about it. No worries, no responsibilities. Just a nice, long vacation."  
  
They could all see Buffy's resolve building. She was determined to fight to the last. "Look, I know that sounds like fun, but..."  
  
"Come on, Buffy. It'll be worth it." Xander insisted.  
  
"Xander! I mean it! We can't..."  
  
"We'll stop at a spa." Giles interrupted quietly, from where he had been shuffling the deck of cards.  
  
"Okay. I'll go pack." Was Buffy's immediate response, as she and Dawn rushed off to their room, talking animatedly about mudpacks and mineral baths.  
  
"Okay, what the hell was that?" Xander asked the Watcher.  
  
"Xander, Xander, Xander..." Giles said patiently, as he stood to leave. "You may have seen much in your life, but you still have so much to learn. Now, why don't you go get packed, and I'll go check us out of the hotel."  
  
"Um...sure."  
  
With that, the Watcher left the room. Xander stood still for a moment, and then started to laugh quietly to himself.  
  
Crossing the room, he picked up the deck of cards.  
  
[Ace of Spades] He thought, before flipping up the top card. He smiled slightly, tied an elastic band around the deck, and tossed it into his suitcase, before beginning to collect his few possessions.  
  
================================  
  
To Be Continued... 


	3. Viva Las Vegas

Title: The Odds 2/?  
  
Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?  
  
Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.  
  
Pairings: None per say. Forget Wood. Forget Kennedy.  
  
A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.  
  
Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up. Also, I know precisely dick-all about the layout of Las Vegas, so bear with me.  
  
[ and ] indicate thoughts.  
  
I added a couple of musical suggestions. Just start playing them at the queues.  
  
That about covers it.  
  
==============================  
  
Los Angeles, California  
  
"Promise me that you'll call if anything happens."  
  
"I will, Buffy." Angel replied patiently. "Just go. Have fun."  
  
"I'll have my cell phone..." The blonde slayer stopped short at Angel's look. "Fine, fine, I'm going. See me go."  
  
"You just promise me you'll relax." The Vampire called out to her retreating form.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, she will." Xander called out from the car in a slightly sinister voice. Buffy just rolled her eyes, and climbed into the back seat, with Willow and Faith. They were just about to pull away when Dawn came stomping out of the Hotel.  
  
"I can't believe you guys are leaving me here! This is so unfair!" She cried, full of righteous indignation. "Even after you let me think I was going, too! This was all my idea in the first place!"  
  
"Actually, Dawn, it was Xander's idea, and you just assumed you were going." Buffy stated.  
  
"But, but, mudpacks! There was discussion of spas, goddammit!"  
  
"Sorry Dawnie, but their were only so many seats in the car. Oh, and that whole legal age limit thing. Maybe when you're older." Xander added apologetically. "And watch your language."  
  
"Age limit? Where are you guys going, an orgy?" The girl asked, proving once and for all that there is no connection between an angry teenager's mouth and brain.  
  
The sound of Giles sputtering and coughing from the driver's seat was overpowered only by Faith's laughter. Willow and Xander just stared at the young girl as her words caught up with her ears, and she turned a bright, beet red.  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy admonished her, trying to hide her own blush. "Where did...why...no, I don't want to know."  
  
"Um...I'll just go...er...do something else now." Dawn stated, quickly making her way back inside. "Bye."  
  
"So," Angel began, as he finally managed to suppress his laughter. "Where are you guys actually staying, anyway? Once you get there, I mean."  
  
"Motel." Xander remarked offhandedly.  
  
"Oh no. In that city, you have to go all out." Angel commented. "Tell you what. I'll set something up for you, and give you a call on Buffy's cell, okay?"  
  
Xander grinned. "Whatever you say, Mr. Moneybags."  
  
"It's a great city, but look out for pick-pockets, and casinos that try to steal your destiny." The vampire added.  
  
"Err...right. I'll do that." The former carpenter responded, before turning to Giles. "For the love of God, Drive, before this gets any weirder."  
  
The Watcher merely nodded, and pulled away from the curb. All the girls waved out the window until Angel was no longer in sight, before settling in for the trip.  
  
==============================  
  
{Queue Song: The Who - Who Are You?}  
  
Las Vegas, Nevada  
  
Later That Day  
  
"So, what have we got, Warrick?" Catherine asked as he entered the alley turned crime scene.  
  
"One extremely weird, and fairly recent double homicide." Warrick responded, rifling through his kit.  
  
"Weird how?"  
  
"Well, we got one fairly normal body over here, excluding the fact that her head is facing the wrong direction."  
  
"God, she's so young."  
  
"Yeah. She looks to be about sixteen or seventeen." Warrick told her, as he furrowed his brow. "Weird thing is, she's clutching this piece of wood here so tight, that I haven't been able to get it out. Temperature indicates that she's been dead for about twelve hours. That puts the time of death at around two or three am this morning, so the muscles should have started loosening up by now."  
  
Catherine leaned in a moment to get a better look. "Well, that's a job for the M.E. What else have you got?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask. I give you, contestant number two." Warrick announced sarcastically, gesturing to the nearby body of a young man. "Once again, a fairly normal body, with one exception."  
  
"And that would be...?"  
  
"Massive trauma to the throat and neck, but no blood. Not a single drop, anywhere."  
  
"So he was killed somewhere else, then, and dumped here." Catherine mused out loud.  
  
"Unless the blood up and walked away." Warrick responded. "But that's not all."  
  
"There's more?"  
  
"Isn't there always?" He said, frowning slightly. "Right over here. Look at that, will ya?"  
  
"...It's a pile of dust, Warrick."  
  
"I thought so, too, till I noticed the others. They're scattered randomly all over the alley. I counted eight of them all together."  
  
Catherine sighed. "Alright, collect up some samples, and get them over to Greg at the lab, see what he can make of them. Other than that, standard bag and tag, okay?"  
  
"You got it, boss." The man responded, before returning to his work.  
  
"Boy, Grissom's gonna love this one." Catherine chuckled, before donning a pair of surgical gloves, and beginning her sweep for evidence.  
  
==============================  
  
{Queue Song: JXL & Elvis Presley - Little Less Conversation}  
  
Las Vegas, Nevada  
  
Same Time  
  
"I'm gonna play blackjack, and poker, and slots, and drink myself stupid, and party till I pass out, and dance at every club, and win thousands of dollars, and..."  
  
"Faith, slow down. Take a breath before you pass out right here. We've got nothing but time. What do you say we check into the hotel first, okay?" Buffy reasoned.  
  
"Oh, alright." Faith pouted. "You're no fun."  
  
"Hey! I have no problem with partying till I pass out." The elder slayer shot back. "I'd just like to have a bed to pass out on."  
  
"I second that!" Willow added.  
  
"Ergh..." Xander put in, from where he had been sleeping in the front. "Are we there yet?"  
  
"Yes, actually." Giles answered him.  
  
Xander pulled himself up just as the world-famous sign passed them.  
  
Welcome To Las Vegas  
  
"Oh, cool." He replied, sitting up. "Food?"  
  
"We'll get something to eat once we're checked into our hotel, alright?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Now, let's see. What was the address of our hotel again, Buffy?"  
  
"Err...hold on. Oh, here it is. Angel said it was 3900, South Las Vegas Boulevard. Apparently it's fairly nice."  
  
They all glanced around the car, hoping to spot the address.  
  
"Oh, damn." Giles muttered. "I can't see any addresses at all. I'll have to ask for directions."  
  
"Unmanly." Xander commented. "But it beats driving around all afternoon."  
  
Giles simply rolled his eyes, and pulled over to a police officer, that was issuing a parking ticket. "Excuse me, Officer, but I was wondering if you could help us?"  
  
The policeman walked over, offering them a smile. "Sure, folks. What do you need?"  
  
"Directions, actually. Could you please direct us to 3900, South Las Vegas Boulevard?"  
  
The officer chuckled to himself for a moment. "Well, you're on Las Vegas Boulevard right now. It makes up the Strip, where most of the larger hotels and casinos are. 3900 is about two blocks, that-a-way, on the corner of Flamingo Street. You can't miss it."  
  
"Thank you very much, Officer." Giles replied. "But how will we know it?"  
  
"Oh, trust me. You'll know it when you see it. But if you need a hint, it the one with the fountain out front."  
  
"Ah. Very well. Thank you again."  
  
"No problem, folks. Drive safe, now."  
  
With that, they were off again, making their way down the strip.  
  
It wasn't long before they found themselves near where the policeman had directed them.  
  
"Well, there's Flamingo Street, which means that 3900 should... be... right... there..." The others all turned to look as Willow's voice trailed off, and one by one, their jaws dropped.  
  
"Oh..." Giles uttered.  
  
"...My..." Buffy whispered.  
  
"...God." Xander finished.  
  
"This rocks. This totally, totally rocks." Faith said reverently.  
  
==============================  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
Bonus points if you can tell me what Hotel they're staying in, without using a search engine. 


	4. Settling In

Title: The Odds 3/?  
  
Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?  
  
Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.  
  
Pairings: None per say. Forget Wood. Forget Kennedy. They bore me.  
  
A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.  
  
Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up. Also, I know precisely dick-all about the layout of Las Vegas, or the hotel in question, so bear with me.  
  
[ and ] indicate thoughts.  
  
To anyone who guessed the right hotel, way to go! This chapter's for you!  
  
==============================  
  
"No, no, no. This can't be right." Xander exclaimed. "I mean look at this place. It's friggin' huge!"  
  
Faith grinned. "Call me crazy, Xand, but I ain't gonna argue."  
  
"Well, there's exactly one way to know for sure." Buffy declared. "Giles, take us in."  
  
The watcher simply nodded, and drove them toward the massive building, shaking his head in wonder as they passed the sign by the road entrance.  
  
THE BELLAGIO HOTEL  
  
As they pulled up to the front doors, a valet immediately rushed out to meet them. "I'll get your car, sir."  
  
"Oh...er...thank you." Giles replied, as the valet thrust a claim ticket into his hand.  
  
A bellhop quickly removed their bags from the trunk, placing them on a rolling cart, and led them into the lobby. As they approached the girl at the front desk, the bellhop flashed her some kind of hand signal. They all saw her eyes widen, before she rushed off.  
  
She returned barely seconds later, followed by an older, distinguished looking man. He nodded to her as she returned to her duties, and moved to meet them.  
  
"Summers and company, I presume?" he asked politely. At their confirming nods, he continued, smiling. "I am Nathaniel Clark, General Manager of the Bellagio Hotel. We were informed that you were on your way, and had our valets keep an eye out for you. Your associate, a Mr. Angel, has taken care of all the details for you. If you'll just follow me, I'll lead you up to your rooms."  
  
"Come along, Timothy." He motioned sharply to the bellhop, and led them to the elevators. Once they were all inside the spacious elevator, he reached over, inserted a key-card, and pushed the button for the top floor.  
  
As the doors slid smoothly shut, he commented. "We had actually had the top floor penthouses booked solid for the next eight months, but it seems that Mr. Angel represents some very...influential people."  
  
The floors passed quickly, and soon, the doors slid open once again. "This way, please."  
  
He led them down an ornately decorated hallway, finally ending at a pair of double doors. He once again inserted the key-card into the high-tech lock, and opened the doors.  
  
"These are your rooms, arranged to meet your specifications. This is the main living room, and the five bedrooms are along that hall. Everything you should need to know is in the book on the table." He told them, placing five identical key-cards on an end table. "Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"  
  
"Um...no, we're fine." Xander responded after a moment, in a slightly stunned tone. The 'living room', as it was called, was at least as large as the old high school library, and then some.  
  
"Very well, then. Timothy here will help you with your bags. If there is anything else you need, please do not hesitate to call guest services. If you have any problems, I'll take care of them personally." With that, he swept out of the room, closing the doors behind him.  
  
"You folks must be pretty important." The bellhop, Timothy commented, as he unloaded the bags.  
  
"What do you mean?" Willow asked, snapping out of her shocked state.  
  
Timothy seemed all too happy to explain. "Well, I was working the lobby when the call came from that Mr. Angel fellow, for the owner. I swear, I haven't seen Mr. Benedict that pale since the big robbery a couple of years ago."  
  
"Big robbery?" Faith inquired.  
  
"Yeah. You never heard?" Timothy responded. "It was all over the news. Biggest robbery in Las Vegas history, they said."  
  
"Humor us." She persisted.  
  
"Well, most of the details were a little sketchy, but the way the story goes is that some guys actually managed to get past all the security, into the underground vault that we share with the MGM Grand and The Mirage, and make off with something in the neighbourhood of one hundred and sixty million dollars.  
  
"Mr Benedict own all three casinos, and took the robbery as a personal insult. He almost had to close down the casinos due to the loss, but some big-shot law firm out in LA got the insurance to cover it all.  
  
"They were never caught, either. The thieves, I mean." He added as an afterthought.  
  
"Wow." Buffy commented.  
  
"Yeah. I love telling people that story." Timothy agreed. "Anyhoo, I'd love to stay and chat, but Mr. Clark will eat me alive if I'm not back on the job soon. See you folks later."  
  
"Yeah. Later." Xander said, now staring at the huge TV in awe.  
  
As the double doors clicked shut, everyone stood silently for a long moment, stunned by the speed of their arrival, and the size of their rooms.  
  
"Damn, B. This place looks bigger than your house." Faith commented, as she rushed off. "I'm gonna go find my room!"  
  
===============================  
  
Some time later, the five of them emerged from the elevator into the lobby. They stopped together at the front entrance.  
  
"So," Xander asked. "Where are we all going?"  
  
"Me and Willow are headed for the hotel spa." Buffy announced. "We're gonna be practically motionless for hours!"  
  
"It's gonna be so much fun!" Willow added.  
  
"Well, as charming as that sounds, I believe I'll have to pass." Giles commented. "I think I'll do a little...er...sightseeing."  
  
"Cool." Xander responded. "How 'bout you, Faith?"  
  
"I think I'll stick with you for now, X. We can go check out the casino."  
  
"Sounds like a plan. Let's do it."  
  
==============================  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Encircled by a halo of cigar smoke, John Andrew Caletti towered over the smaller, trembling man, flanked by two massive bodyguards. Leaning closer, he blew a puff of smoke into the man's face, and smiled.  
  
"Joseph, am I not a reasonable individual?" He crooned, sounding almost amused. "Did I not give you an entire month to gather the money owed to me?"  
  
"Y-yes, Mr. Caletti..."  
  
"And do you have my money, Joseph?"  
  
"N-n-n...no, Mr. Caletti."  
  
"Of course not. And therein lies our problem." The mobster paused to take another puff. "You see, Joseph, you are a fantastic little rat. One of my best sources of information in this city."  
  
Joseph smiled weakly. "T-thank you, sir."  
  
"However, you non-payment of this debt puts me in a difficult position. If I let you live, others may see it as a sign that debts to me are not a serious matter." He paused again, seemingly deep in thought. "Then again, if I were to smash your head in with a hammer, slice your baby to ribbons, and dump it all on The Strip as a message, it'd be a waste of a good informant, wouldn't it?"  
  
Joseph whimpered loudly, as a dark strain appeared on the front of his pants.  
  
With a shark like grin, John Caletti once more leaned in. "Because I am a merciful man, I'll give you twenty four hours to get my money. Fail, and it's your life. Skip town, and it's the life of your entire family. Understood?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"I asked is that understood?!"  
  
"Y-y-yes, Mr. Caletti. I understand."  
  
"Good. Now clean yourself up, and get the hell outta my sight."  
  
Dismissed, the smaller man flew from the room, thinking desperately.  
  
[How can I scrape five hundred thousand dollars together in just one day...?] 


	5. The Lies Of Aquatic Plantlife

Title: The Odds 4?

Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?

Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.

Pairings: None per se. Forget Wood. Forget Kennedy. They bore me.

A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.

Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up. Also, I know precisely dick-all about the layout of Las Vegas, or the hotel in question, so bear with me.

**This** indicates thoughts.

* * *

"Xander!" Faith whined loudly, as they walked into the hotel restaurant. "I'm not even hungry! Why can't we go gambling now?"

"Well," Xander considered, grinning. "There are three reasons. First, and most notably, I _am_ hungry. Secondly, it's still a little early to hit the game floor. All the really heavy gamblers will be playing later tonight. That's where the money, and challenge is."

"Oh..." Faith blinked at him. "And the third reason?"

"I'm _really_ hungry."

"But...!"

"Eh, eh, eh! I need a cheeseburger, Faith. This is not even remotely negotiable."

The Slayer scowled at him, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine. Go eat your precious cheeseburger."

The young man grinned, lightly punching her shoulder. "Aw, buck up. I'll even treat you to a milkshake for your troubles, okay."

The Boston girl's expression eased slightly. "Really?"

"Sure."

She sighed softly. "Okay, cool."

* * *

Across Town...

As the scorching Las Vegas day came to a close, and even as the desert sun was falling below the horizon, many of the multitude of bars and restaurants in the city were already getting crowded.

Regardless of the crowds, though, a lone chap managed to shoulder his way into one of the more crowded pubs, and make his way to the bar.

"Welcome to the Elephant & Castle, sir." The bartender greeted him. "What can I get you?"

"Scotch," Came the reply. "And a word with the owner."

Despite his innocuous appearance, he carried himself in the same confident, almost cocky manner of a career gambler that had beaten the odds time and again.

To some, the unspoken royalty of Las Vegas.

Sipping idly on his drink, he watched the barman summon the pub owner from the back, and point in his general direction. The owner was a heavyset man, his messy black hair only slightly tinged with grey. Although he seemed annoyed at being interrupted, he still carried a slight smile. A smile that broke into a huge grin at the sight of the man at the bar.

"Rupert!" He cried happily. "What are you doing here? It's been years! Last I heard, you gone back to England."

"I had, Dominic." Rupert Giles chuckled. "It's a rather long story, actually. Best told over a round or three."

"Is it?" Dominic Elliot, owner of the Elephant & Castle Pub, responded sceptically. "And I suppose I'm buying?"

"Of course. After all, I bought last time."

"You can't mean New Zealand? Of course you bought. You blew up my car."

"Now, Dom…"

"And my house." The shorter man added.

"That was hardly my fault." The Watcher defended himself.

"And I quote 'Semtex is perfectly safe, Dominic.' 'Don't worry so much, Dominic.' Sound familiar?"

"I think you took my words a little out of context."

"What context is there to 'No worries, Dom, I won't blow up your house.'"

Giles sputtered for a moment, before shrugging.

Dominic laughed loudly. "Not to worry, Mate. Katie had wanted to redecorate anyway."

"Ah. That worked out, then. How is Katie these days?"

"Fantastic. She's been keeping busy, taking hikers into the mountains." Dominic beamed. "She's never been happier. But back to your sudden appearance in Vegas..."

"Of course." A shark-like grin crawled across the Watcher's face. "I'm here on vacation for the next week or two, and need to make up for roughly seven years of behaving myself."

"Seven years! For God's sake, did you become a monk?"

"Worse. I was given a Slayer."

Dominic blanched, and swung to face the bar. "Mark! Four pints, two more Scotch, and leave the bottle!"

* * *

Some Time Later...

"So I said to her 'Look. I don't care how big your knockers are, luv, I'll not sell you my weddin' tackle for some two-bit summoning.'" Giles slurred heavily, his proper accent degraded beyond recognition. "Right in bloody her face, too."

"Good show, Ripper." Dominic crowed, spilling half his pint in an attempt to toast his friend. "What did she say to that, then?"

"Oh, the usual. Fame this and fortune that. But I stayed firm, I did."

"And?"

"And then she stabbed me." Giles leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "That seemed to happen fairly often in those days."

"Silly bint." Dominic muttered. "I hope you stabbed her right back."

"Oh, I did." The watcher assured him. "In fact, we'd have kept right on stabbing each other all night, but the owner of the bar wasn't having any of it, and had us both kicked out."

"Wanker. I'd never do that here. It's a man's right to stab in self defence."

"Actually, it was all for the best, really. I was bleeding rather heavily by then, and was just as happy to wander off to the hospital."

"Pansy."

"Oh, fuck off, Dom." Giles spat. "Besides, I met a cute little nurse while I was gettin' stitched up."

"Oh?"

"Too right. Seems she were interested in my 'goods' as well, if you catch my meaning."

Dominic peered at him for a moment, and then broke into a grin. "You lying drunk."

Giles sputtered indignantly. "Bollocks! I've never told a lie in my life!"

"Oh? What about...?"

"Except then."

"What about...?"

"And then."

"And what, may I ask, about the time in Manchester...?"

"That wasn't a lie. I just stretched the truth a little."

"Like hell you did. Bloody thing damn near took my arm off!"

"Well it's your own fault. You shouldn't have kicked it."

"You said it was dead!"

"Well in hindsight, it obviously wasn't."

Dominic stared at him, before turning his eyes skyward. "God in Heaven, why am I still friends with you."

"Liverpool in '78." Giles answered evenly.

Dominic sobered. "Oh yeah."

Both men sat in silence for a long while, nursing their drinks.

Then Dominic raised his pint. "To Robert. And Bernard. And Charlie, too."

"And Mark, as well." Giles agreed, raising his own drink in a toast. "And I think it's time for another round."

"While we're at it, let's go over to one of the casinos." Dominic suggested. "See if we can't rid you of some of that hard-earned Watcher's pay."

"Dom, I like the way you think." Giles concurred, finishing off his drink with flourish. "We're off."

Grinning, Dominic downed the remainder of his pint, and the two men stumbled their way to the doors.

* * *

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Wills?"

"Is it just me, or is this whole spa thing not as fun as we were led to believe?"

"It's not just you."

Willow shifted uncomfortably. "So it's okay for me not to be enjoying this?"

"We're wrapped in seaweed, Willow, and someone left the AC on." Buffy's voice was trembling slightly. "I think a lack of enjoyment is well within the realm of 'okay', considering."

"Wanna get outta here?" The Wicca invited, sitting up and peeling the strips of seaweed from her body.

"Yeah, I think so. You have anything in mind?"

"Not really. You?"

"Well..." Buffy began slowly. "There is something I've been wanting to try..."

"Go on."

"See, one of the hotels, The New York something-or-another, has this reeeally big roller-coaster, and I haven't been on a roller-coaster since I was fifteen and my dad took me to Disneyland."

Willow paused to consider the idea. "You know, I've never been on a good roller-coaster. Just the sorta lame one that comes to town with the carnival from time to time."

"Really? You mean it?" The blonde slayer's eyes filled with hope.

"Sure." Willow replied, despite her nerves. "I'll give it a shot."

Grinning happily, Buffy grabbed the redhead by the wrist and ran them both to the change rooms.

* * *

Meanwhile...

Faith glanced at Xander over the rim of her milkshake, watching as he devoured his meal with uncanny speed. "Damn X. Take a second to taste it, would you?"

"Cnt." He replied, his mouth full of fries. "Oo 'ungry."

"Oh gross." The raven-haired girl made a disgusted face. "Keep yer yap shut when yer eatin'. God."

"Sorry." He muttered sheepishly.

"You should be." The Slayer laughed. "Besides, It's for your own good. Keep it up and you'll end up choking to death."

"One in four thousand five hundred forty eight." Xander countered between bites. "I'm not worried."

"Okay, what is the deal with that?" Faith demanded.

"Deal with what?"

"The whole numbers...thing. Calling the odds of stuff." She pressed. "You've been doing it since LA."

His eyebrows shot up. "I have?"

"Yup. Lots of muttering to yourself." She confirmed. "Don't think B, Red, or G have noticed, but everyone else is wondering if you're possessed, or if you've just gone insane."

"I'm not insane."

She crossed her arms, peering at him.

"Or possessed." He continued, rolling his eyes.

"So? What your deal?"

"I can calculate the mathematical odds of anything, in my head, faster than a computer." He shrugged. "Hell if I know how or why."

"Really?"

"Yep." He assured her. "I could do it as a kid, then I couldn't for a long while, and now I can again."

"Anything?"

"Anything." He held. "Quiz me."

She grinned, and pulled a quarter from her pocket.

"Heads." He informed her, before she even got the chance to flip it. "Then tails, heads, heads, tails, heads, tails, tails, heads, tails, and then you'll miss the catch and it'll go in your milkshake."

She gawked at him for a long moment, and narrowed her eyes. "Okay, smartass. Try this one. What're my odds of living another year."

"One in three."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope."

"Five years?" She ventured.

"One in four."

A tiny sliver of hope worked its way into the Boston girls mind. "Odds of dying peacefully of old age?"

He winced. "One in three hundred and fifty two thousand. Give or take."

"O-oh." Faith sat stunned, looking to be on the verge of tears. "I...uh...I see."

By contrast, Xander was grinning widely. "Odds of dying at age 96 while attempting some highly advanced Karma-Sutra technique, however, are roughly one in eighty two."

Faith blanched, then burst out laughing, collapsing on the table.

He continued. "Odds of buying it in a freak whipped cream accident, one in one hundred twelve."

Faith only laughed harder.

"Odds of biting the big one because of a rogue monkey in a helicopter, an alarming one in forty seven."

"Please...stop." Faith gasped.

He smiled softly. "Odds of dying of old age, one in twelve, though I wouldn't bet the farm on peacefully."

She looked up at him, eyes shining with laughter. "Serious?"

"You know it." He cleared his throat. "And my personal favourite, odds of dying happy..."

"Out with it X."

"One in one point zero zero three five." He finished.

She beamed. "For sure?"

"Nothing is for sure, Faith." He reminded her. "But for lack of a better term, the odds _are _on your side."

Faith took a moment to bask in the happiness of Xander's revelation. Then her twisted sense of humour took over.

"Hey X. What're the odds that G, Red, and B hook up this week? Ya know, tripod style."

He paused for a moment, then a powerful shudder drove it's way down his spine. "God damn you, Faith."

Laughing wickedly, she stood up from the booth. "C'mon, Xan. We're in the city of riches. Let's go claim some."

"Okay. We'll end up sleeping together, though."

"Is that so?" She asked sceptically.

He grinned enigmatically. "Odds are."

Faith paused for a moment, before running to catch up. "X, you were just messing with me, right?"

"_Right?_"

"X...?"

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	6. Bright Light City

Title: The Odds 5?

Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?

Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.

Pairings: None per se. Forget Wood. Forget Kennedy. They bore me.

A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.

Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up. In addition, I have now _been_ to Las Vegas, and can speak with a little more authority on the matter.

**This** indicates thoughts.

* * *

_Caesar's Palace_

"I swear, X." Faith muttered. "You're gonna pay for that sleeping together crack."

"Honestly, Faith." Xander just shook his head."You've had days that are like one twenty-four hour sexual innuendo. And considering that tripod remark, I think a little turnabout is fair in this case."

The dark haired Slayer just narrowed her eyes. "We'll just see, X."

"Alright. Fine. I'm sorry." The one-eyed man grinned. "Now chill, Faith. Let's go win us some money."

"Yes! Good plan. We'll do that." The Boston girl's dark expression vanished in a heartbeat. "What's first? Poker? Craps? Blackjack? Oh! Oh! Is it Roulette?"

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, he shook his head. "No, to all of the above."

"Huh?" She shot him a curious look. "Then what?"

He smiled enigmatically. "Start-up capital."

* * *

_One Block Away_

"AHHHHHAAAAAAAAA!"

"WAAAAHOOOOOOOO!"

Delighted screams sang out over The Strip as the infamous Manhattan Express roller coaster plunged from the apex of its track to the ground below. Twisting into a series of loops and coils, it took its passengers, including a certain Slayer and Witch, through a pattern of tight, high-G turns that left them almost regretting that last slice of deep-dish pizza.

As it came rattling into the station and the attendants freed them of their restraints, the two of them were laughing up a storm, albeit walking a little unsteadily.

"I swear, Buffy." Willow gushed. "Those all-day ride passes were your best idea ever."

"I know! This is great!" The slayer agreed. "Let's go again!"

"Yeah!" Willow nodded, as the two girls rushed back to the entry line.

Nearby, one of the attendants leaned over to his friend. "How many times is this for them?"

"Twenty-three." The young man replied dreamily. "I think I'm in love."

The attendant nodded, wondering if the two beautiful adrenaline junkies would keep them here all night.

God, he hoped so. He totally had to get that redhead's number.

* * *

_Caesar's Palace_

"No, no, no, no, no." Xander muttered as he paced down a row of slot machines, with Faith in tow. The two of them had been wandering among the loud devices for some twenty minutes, and had yet to play so much as a penny.

Faith was about to ask what all this was about when he stopped abruptly at one of the machines, grinning madly. "Bingo."

He pulled the twenty she'd loaned him from his pocket, and fed it into the machine. He quickly set the machine to bet the whole amount. Pushing the 'spin' button, he turned to watch Faith's face dissolve into amazement as the rollers lined up to win.

A maximum payout win.

That meant sixteen thousand times the original bet.

That meant _three hundred and twenty thousand freaking dollars in one shot._

"X, I was wrong." Faith's voice was barely audible over the bells and alarms of the machine, her grin bigger than ever. "You are so getting laid tonight."

Laughing, Xander punched the cash-out button, a cash ticket printing from the machine. "I aim to please. Let go cash this puppy."

"Then we hit the tables, right?"

"Nope." He replied, to her disappointment. "Still one more thing to do first."

* * *

_Bellagio Hotel_

"Bloody hell, Ripper!" Dominic muttered as he looked around the enormous hotel lobby. "You've come up in the world."

Giles smirked, ignoring the shorter man as his eyes followed a pretty young cocktail waitress. "I love this city."

Dom followed his friend's gaze, chuckling. Gripping Giles by the shoulders, he steered the Watcher toward the high stakes tables. "There'll be time for that later, Ripper. We've got money to spend."

Dropping into two empty seats at the nearest table, they peered at the dealer expectantly.

"Gentleman." The dealer said slowly, glancing at their clothes. "This is a high stakes table, two thousand dollar buy-in. If you head just out that way, you'll find the cheaper..."

"Oh shut it." Giles grinned. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a fat wad of cash, and tossed it on the table. "It's nine thousand. Deal us in."

The dealer gaped at the roll of bills on the table, changing his tune instantly. "Of course, sir. My apologies. What chips denominations would you like?"

"We'll be betting large." Dom replied. "Hundreds will do."

"Yes, sir." The young man dealt them quickly into the game.

* * *

Across the table, watching in mild amusement as their jovial faces turned to stone at the sight of the cards, Mike McDermott carefully studied the two newcomers to the game.

To the casual observer, the two seemed to define the phrase 'A fool and his money...' but when you looked a little closer, you saw the truth.

The two of them had so few tells it was scary.

For the first time in years, Mike had no clue what his opponents were thinking. It left him feeling uneasy, and a little excited.

He had sorely missed that feeling.

This would be an interesting game.

* * *

A/N: I just got back from a vacation to Las Vegas. That city is awesome cubed. 


	7. Strange Days

Title: The Odds 6/?

Disclaimer: Aw, come on. Don't make me say it. Oh, fine. I don't own Buffy. Happy now?

Summary: (Challenge Response) In light of Caleb's words, just what does Xander see?

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Some season seven, but nothing too specific for seasons 1-6.

Pairings: None per se. Forget Wood. Forget Kennedy. They bore me.

A/N: I don't normally respond to challenges, but this one sparked my interest.

Some of these odds are real, some are calculated badly by me, and some are made up. In addition, I have now _been_ to Las Vegas, and can speak with a little more authority on the matter.

_**This**_ indicates thoughts.

* * *

_LVPD Crime Labs_

"What have you got for me, Greg?" Catherine asked as she entered the trace evidence room.

"The makings of a long night." The young lab tech muttered. "I got the tests back on the dust you sent in."

Catherine Willows looked up expectantly. "And?"

"And...it's ash." Greg continued. "Specifically, human ash. Enough to account for maybe seven or eight people."

"Ash." She groaned. "This is gonna be one of those cases, isn't it?"

The young man nodded thoughtfully. "Hey, Cath. You don't suppose..."

"I swear to God, Greg, if the words 'spontaneous combustion' so much as pass your lips..."

"Okay! Okay!" He threw his hands up in surrender. "But it's not as though there's a better explanation. How else could eight people's worth of ash, in eight distinct piles, appear in a downtown alley overnight?"

Catherine grimaced. "That, my friend, is why we have a job."

* * *

_Bellagio Hotel _

"Oh, damn, that's sexy." Faith gushed, examining her refection in the full-length mirror. The jet-black gown she'd just purchased clung to all the right places, shimmering just slightly.

"Damn right it is." Xander agreed, buttoning the jacket of his new Armani suit. "Wouldn't do to be relieving people of their hard-earned money, looking like we just walked in off the street, would it?"

"Absolutely not." She agreed, as they made their way to the elevators. "And the fact that we look like the embodiment of hotness?"

"Oh, that's just a bonus." He chuckled.

"Right." She smiled. "By the way, I got a present for ya."

Xander's expression turned curious as she produced a small box from behind her back. "Faith, you didn't have to..."

"Oh, believe me, I did." She insisted. "The moment I saw this, I couldn't not buy it for you. Now close your eye and hold out your hands."

He complied, grinning. A very small weight settled into his palm a moment later.

"And open."

Opening his eye, he peered into his hand. There sat a hand crafted leather eye patch, with a black and silver Spider-Man logo stamped across its surface, and a woven leather braid for a strap.

"Faith." Xander said slowly. "This is the most awesome gift I've ever gotten."

The Boston girl beamed. "Really?"

"Hell, yeah. From this moment on, all future awesome things will be judged in reference to this awesomeness."

"You know just what to say to a girl, Xan." She rolled her eyes lightly. "But I'm glad you like it. I figured that between that, the suit, and the card playin' skills, you'd be a regular bond villain in no time."

Xander's eye lit up even further. "You're absolutely right! I just need one more thing to be perfect!"

Faith started chuckling. "Sorry, pal. I draw the line at the white cat."

"Aww. But I was gonna be a villain..."

"You can be a villain without a cat."

"I guess." He muttered quietly as she shook her head.

"Speakin' of bad guys, though, I've kinda been meaning to ask you," Faith glanced up at him. "Ain't card counting illegal?"

He paused, and seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Naw. Not the way I do it." He assured her. "If we used any outside sources, like a computer, that'd be illegal. Still, we'd be better off not getting caught."

"Oh?"

"Just because it's technically not illegal, doesn't mean that it's welcome. Legal or not, no one takes kindly to getting played." Xander sighed. "My dad used to think he could play cards. More accurately, he thought he could play the players. He went to Reno a few times to try his luck. Infantile shit, too. Hiding cards up his sleeve. Wetting his fingers to mark cards. Wasn't long before he got caught."

"Ouch. What happened?"

"First time a casino catches you cheating, they kick you out and take your winnings. Maybe rough you up a bit. The second time you get caught, they break your hands. And I mean shatter them."

Faith rubbed her hands together reflexively. "How 'bout the third time?"

"Long walk in the desert with a shovel."

"And your pa…?"

"Learned his lesson the second time."

"Lucky guy."

"Not really."

* * *

_LVPD Crime Labs_

"Hey Doc." Warrick Brown quipped as he entered the morgue. "What's the good word?"

Dr. Albert Robbins looked up from the autopsy table, a typically calm expression across his features, despite the look in his eyes that told Warrick the Medical Examiner had found something. "A challenge, so to speak. I've been trying to recover this piece of wood from female victim's hand for an hour now, with very little luck."

"An hour?" Warrick gaped. "Is it glued in there?"

"If only, Mr. Brown." The coroner returned. "I could dissolve glue easily enough, but I've tried every tool I have at my disposal to open this young woman's hand, to no success, including a pneumatic wedge."

"Are you telling me that a machine that can rip open a car door failed on a teenage girl's hand?"

"Not only that, but when I tried to cut her fingers off altogether, I didn't even make it halfway before the bone saw burnt out. And that was after I spent five minutes sawing through some of the toughest muscle I've ever come across." He went on, gesturing to the sheet covered body.

"Five minutes?" Warrick repeated incredulously.

"Five minutes." Dr. Robbins confirmed. "And that saw is rated to cut through concrete. To look at his little girl's musculature and bone density, I wouldn't be surprised if she could punch through a brick wall."

"Heavy..."

"To put it mildly."

* * *

_Bellagio Hotel_

Mike peered over the table at his only real opponent tonight. The others at the table may have had money, or power, but they knew dick about cards.

This one however, had managed to subtly change his starting capital into a hold pushing twenty-two stacks of high society. Not a bad accomplishment for a couple hours play.

Since he'd left New York over a year ago, Mike McDermott had been cruising the tables in Las Vegas, refining his poker game as a master swordsmith might hone a blade. And in that year, he'd seen few players to match this 'Ripper' guy.

Keeping his face clear, he subtly checked his cards, and on a moment's consideration, raised the pot another thousand.

No need to get aggressive yet.

* * *

_Bellagio Hotel_

Joseph Gibbons was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a rich man. Born into a poor life with a poor family, he was no stranger to poverty.

When he was sixteen, however, a local Wise Guy gave him fifty bucks to run a package downtown for him. Joseph had never seen fifty bucks all in once place before, and took the job without question. And the next job. And the one after that.

In time, he had a good little business going, not only as a package boy, but also in listening to conversations, and sharing what he'd heard with those who cared. He quickly found the latter to be the far more profitable of the two, and before he knew it, the money was rolling in.

Unfortunately, like most who come into a great deal of money they didn't really earn, Joseph soon began spending a bit more that he could really afford, all too quickly followed by much, much more than he could afford.

With a young wife and a baby on the way, Joseph figured the best way out was to get a quick loan (only a few grand, was all), and pay it back with the money he made.

Sadly, the expression 'Don't shit where you eat' was lost on the young man, as he decided to acquire the loan from one of his own customers, a Casino owner and reputed Mob Boss, John Andrew 'The Shark' Caletti.

He got the loan, but business didn't cover all he'd hoped, so another small loan was required. And another, not long after.

As the debts kept stacking up, Joseph soon found his information sources drying up. No one wanted to be associated with a man on The Shark's black list.

And now, Joseph Gibbons found himself with twenty hours and counting to gather some half a million dollars, or John Caletti was gonna have him pureed and dumped in the desert.

He was so screwed.

Lifting his head from the bar surface, he signalled the bartender for another double scotch. Turning his problems over and over in his head, he turned his eyes to the gaming floor.

Just as his drink arrived, he noticed a young couple dressed to the nines exit the elevator. The man was striking enough, with a black stylized eye patch and a tailored Armani suit, but the woman with him was the looker of the two. Long dark hair, classic beauty, and a killer body to boot, all wrapped in a gown that probably cost more that Joseph's last mortgage payment.

**_Son of a bitch. _**Joseph thought angrily, taking a long drink. **_Some guys have all the luck._**

* * *

A/N: Damn! Two story updates in as many days. I gotta pace myself. _(Even if it's been nine months since this story saw an update, and almost two years for the other.)_

**_HUZZAH!!_**


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